


Star Crossed (It Was Enough)

by firstbestdestinys



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Constellations, Grief/Mourning, Star-crossed, life after arthur, two sides of the same coin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 12:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1898805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firstbestdestinys/pseuds/firstbestdestinys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Arthur passed away, all that Merlin knew that he didn't deserve to be left like this, in the moral plane. So he scattered Arthur across the stars so he could watch over the world forever (and, even though he would never admit it, so that Merlin can still visit him for years to come).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Star Crossed (It Was Enough)

**Author's Note:**

> This story mentions the canonical death of Arthur Pendragon, but does not go into details on his death or his corpse. Please leave comments for suggestions!

As the last breath passed through the lips of the person that he held most dear, Merlin simply felt numb.

 He could feel his body physically shaking, sure. He could feel hot tear after tear stream down his face and he could hear himself scream as a piece of himself (the better piece, always the better piece) got torn away from him. He could feel his magic coursing through his veins, burning his skin and his lungs, searching for a release but he couldn’t use it because the only person he _could_ use it for was gone now.

All of these things he felt and experienced, but deep down in the core of his being was a part of him that wasn’t screaming. It was from this part of him (perhaps the part he had let grow cold and hard over the years) that he watched himself break apart with the only thing in the universe that mattered to him dead in his arms. In this part of him, kept away from the storm that raged all around him, only one thought raced through it. “Arthur doesn’t deserve this.”

Somehow, this small part of calm managed to break through the rest of the screaming, storming part. The shaking and the tears stopped and the magic started to gather, getting ready for one final act that he could give to his King. An eerie silence fell over the lake, even the sound of birds and the lapping of the lake stopped in anticipation. Once he had gathered all of his magic, everything that had given him life and purpose, he whispered a final word; not an incantation, but something far more powerful. “Arthur.” With a sigh, his eyes turned gold and all of his magic was released into Arthur’s limp form.

Arthur started to shimmer and dissolve into beautiful gold flakes (the color of his hair, his laughter, his soul), and though Merlin could still feel the raw pain from his loss, it took his breath away to see what they could make together. A second (a thousand infinities) later, the golden dust flew into the clouds where it belonged.

Now that his magic and calmness faded away with Arthur’s body, nothing kept Merlin from feeling the full force of the agony of losing his closest friend.

Merlin didn’t remember much else that day, other than complete and blinding sorrow that he knew would never fade away. He did remember that night when the cool air and darkness drew away the pain enough for him to function. He was still at the shore of the lake (where else would he have gone?), curled up in a ball. Every part of him ached and his throat was ray from the crying because Arthur was dead, oh Gods Arthur was _dead_ —

As the pain threatened to overtake him once more, a gentle breeze fell across his shoulders like a caress and Merlin could have sworn that he heard someone whisper his name. Something inside told him to look up and as he did so he saw the familiar ocean of stars looking back down at him. Their beauty comforted him, as they always had during his many nights spent awake worrying over a certain clotpole. But as he looked up at them this night, he noticed that something was wrong—there were more stars than there had been, a whole new constellation now took the place in the center of the sky, a warrior—

The realization hit him then, and he couldn’t help but smile. “Arthur.” The stars blinked back at him. The smile turned into a laugh, an uncontrollable laugh that filled him up completely from head to toe. The laughter soon morphed with tears, and Merlin couldn’t tell if he was crying because he was laughing or laughing because he was crying, because it didn’t matter because there was Arthur. He was still there, with him, just a little farther away.

Eventually another cool breeze (please be Arthur) blew across his shoulders once more and drew the hysteria from Merlin, leaving him calm and more whole than he ever thought possible. His eye was drawn to the lake, which was completely still despite the breeze blowing. It served as a mirror would, perfectly reflecting the night sky. In this reflection Arthur’s celestial form stood close to Merlin, one hand with a sword ready to fight. The other one was outstretched towards Merlin, and Merlin put his hand on top of Arthur’s. The lake rippled slightly at the disturbance, but it quickly settled again, leaving the two with their hands entwined.

Merlin knew that this would be as close as he would get to touching Arthur ever again, but it was enough. It was enough.

~  *  ~

Years passed. Merlin tried to stop counting them, but to stop counting the years meant to forget why he was counting them, and he couldn’t forget Arthur. He wandered the world year after year, sometimes getting involved with the affairs of the world and sometimes just staying alone. After Arthur’s death, it seemed like the rest of his friends passed away in the blink of an eye. He was alone, hopelessly alone, and he didn’t even have his magic to keep him company. All of his magic had left with Arthur up into the stars, and there his magic would remain forever.

Merlin tried not to keep himself bound to anything or anyone, but there was one thing he could not avoid. Once a year, every year, he would journey back to Lake Avalon, taking great care to be there once night fell. For every year on the anniversary of Arthur’s death, a strange constellation came into view, a warrior in the sky. And Merlin would spend the night with him (for the sky always took great care to be clear these nights). Sometimes he would talk with Arthur, telling him of all of the things that had passed the past year. Sometimes he would cry and stomp and scream at the unfairness of it all, demanding that Arthur return to him before the entire world came crashing down on him. And sometimes, very rarely, Merlin would just sit there, his sold hand resting on Arthur’s starry one, and let the silence speak for itself.

Tonight was one such night, and the stars danced brighter and the air felt even cooler than it had that first night of anguish, and Merlin knew that it would be his last. The ache in his chest that was always there started to ebb with that realization—it was almost over. The cool breeze settled over his shoulders for the first time in years and Merlin knew that Arthur was there to see him off, as was only fitting, Tears stung his eyes, and for the first time in years Merlin began to grow fearful. What if Arthur wasn’t there, wherever the afterlife may bring him? What if all that was waiting for him was another infinity waiting for his other half to return?

In the lake, the stars that made up Arthur’s form glittered as if to say “I’m here, I’m right here. You were never alone and you won’t be now.”

Composing himself, Merlin nodded and let the breeze take away the ache of his bones and his heart. The weight of the ages slipped away as Merlin passed on from this life from the next. The pain was replaced with a joy that he could not remember ever feeling before, even when Arthur was alive. His limbs felt lighter, and when he saw his limbs start to fade and dissolve into silver dust (the color his hair had become, his magic, his soul), he didn’t care because he was going to see Arthur. Arthur. “Arthur,” he sighed, the words enough to bring him to peace at last. The last of him faded away to silver and after an eternity of hesitation (or was it only a second?) he flew up into the night sky.

A new constellation joined the stars that night, next to the strange warrior, ready to protect him forever. And if one stood by the Lake Avalon on the night that both of them were together in the sky, all that remained of the great King and Warlock was two figures, halves of the same whole, dancing together for the rest of eternity. And for Merlin and Arthur, it was enough. It was enough.


End file.
